


Tangled

by Stacy LA Stronach (slashgirl)



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-11
Updated: 2005-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashgirl/pseuds/Stacy%20LA%20Stronach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny remembers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tangled

**Author's Note:**

> I've created a back-story for Danny, incorporating what little I've seen on the show. I'm assuming his mother is dead because in one ep (please, don't ask me which one) Danny swears on his mother's grave, which I'm sure he wouldn't do/say unless she is dead. I'll probably be completely wrong with all this, but that's okay. I can handle AU. I don't think it's been mentioned as to whether he has siblings or not… I'm going on the assumption that he's 30 in S2.

Danny moves and stands with his back to the mirror. He angles the hand mirror so he sees the harsh black lines traced and filled in across his shoulder. He's looked at it so much, lately. It seems to mock him: stark and bold in its contrast to the paleness of his skin. Reminds him of what he had once been, reminds him of the things he'd done, and mostly, it reminds him that you never really leave the Tanglewood Boys. By using the hand mirror to look at his back in the other mirror, the words turn out the right way, easy to read, although he doesn't need to see it to know what it says. He has it memorised. The date in and the date out, both there in black ink. But it seems that even with that out date on his shoulder, he'll never truly be out of it, never be free from his past.

He's never told Mac about this, had only hinted at it before Sonny Sassone had outed him. Danny snorts. Here he'd always been really worried about that other closet he lived in, the one marked "Gay". How he now prefers that be the closet door that Mac opens, not the one marked "Past". The past he can't escape, the past that threatens to drag him down and ruin his life. Danny drops the hand holding the mirror. He closes his eyes, trying to block out the image of that tattoo, but currently, it's tattooed inside his eyelids. Only instead of being dark, it's white, in that strange reverse colour world that exists behind closed eyes. Fortunately, the after image lasts only a few seconds.

Opening his eyes again, Danny slowly drops his pants and boxers. He reaches in and turns the shower on, hot as he can stand it. He sets his glasses on the counter by the sink, putting them where he always puts them, so he can find them easily once he's out of the shower. Climbing in, he hisses at the first heat of the water on his skin, then relishing the feel as he acclimates to it. Danny lets the water cascade over his skin for several minutes before he picks up the soap and washcloth. He makes quick work of the formality of cleaning himself; he washes his hair, letting the water rinse all the soap out. Danny turns around, the tattooed shoulder turned to the hot water. If only he could wash away that ink, that ink that represents the dirt on his soul, as easily as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair. After a few more minutes, Danny turns the water off.

His skin is tinged pink from the water's heat when he climbs out, grabbing the dark blue towel off the rack. Quickly, Danny dries his body, before running the towel roughly through his hair. Opening the door to allow steam to escape and cool air in, Danny puts his glasses on and decides he doesn't need to shave. He hangs up the towel and heads into his bedroom, naked, to get dressed for the day.

Standing in front of his closet, trying to decide what to wear, Danny remembers what the date is, and he closes his eyes. It was twelve years ago, today, that his mother died. He sighs, opening his eyes and reaching into the closet for the pants and shirt he'll wear today.

Pulling on his boxers and undershirt, his mind slips back to the last time he'd seen his mother.

Danny walks into the hospital room, his mother looking so small and pale in the big bed. He sits in the chair by the bed, picking up her tiny hand; she was a small woman in stature but her personality had been expansive. She loved life and loved her children. Now, to Danny, it seemed like this was just a shell, a shadow of who she'd been, lying in the bed.

He holds her hand, it's cold. "Mama?" he says quietly.

Her eyes flutter open, her blue eyes, the same shade as Danny's own, having trouble focussing on him. He knows it's the morphine they're giving her to control the pain. Finally, she realises who it is and smiles. "Danny boy," she whispers, using his childhood nickname. "So happy you're here."

"Just stoppin' by on my way to school, wanted to see ya," he answers. He never bothers asking how she was doing; she always lies and says "fine".

She stares at him, "How's school?"

He smiles at her. "I'm doin' fine, Ma, don't worry 'bout that."

"Good," she says, raising her other hand to point a finger at him weakly. "You need to get away, make something of yourself, Danny. Don't forget your promise to me." Even though her voice is weak, Danny feels the strength of the words.

"I've never broken a promise to you and I'm not gonna start now," he replies, looking at his watch. "I gotta go, Ma, or I'll be late for school," he tells her. He stands, kissing her, and hugging her, feeling scared at how much weaker her return hug seems today.

As he pulls back, she manages to get her hand up to stroke his face. "You be a good boy, Danny. I love you."

He smiles at her. "I love you, too, Ma. I'll stop by after school, see ya," he says. Danny turns back to look at her from the doorway and she's already asleep.

 

Buttoning up the burgundy shirt he's chosen to wear and then pulling on his grey pants, Danny remembers how he never got to see his mother again. They'd called him out of English class to the office. He knows, when he sees his sister, Marie, standing there, that their mother is dead. They went home where his other sister, Kelly, and his brother, Mikey were waiting. His father didn't bother coming home. He was "busy". He still remembers the pain of that day. It will never leave him.

Danny pushes these thoughts out of his head as he leaves to catch the subway. Once in his seat, on the way to work, he thinks about the promise he'd made his mother. He wishes she had lived long enough to see him keep it.

He's fourteen when she sees the tattoo on his shoulder. Danny is getting dressed when she knocks on his bedroom door and opens it. She sees his back and he hears her gasp of surprise. "Danny? What have you done?" she asks, walking through the mess of clothes on his floor, reaching out and not quite touching the ink.

Turning around he stares at her defiantly. "I'm in with the Boys," he sneers almost challenging her to do something about it.

Before he even sees it and definitely before he can react, his mother slaps him, hard, across his face. "Don't ever speak to me like that again, Daniel Messer!"

He brings his hand up to his face, shocked. His mother hasn't hit him since he was a kid and she'd sometimes spank him. "Ma, I'm old enough to do what I want and know what I want," he says, once he recovers.

She sneers at him, shaking her head. "Oh, yeah, you're the big man, now, huh? All of fourteen and old enough to join a gang of thieves and murderers!" She raises her hand to stop him when he tries to speak. "Don't bother, Danny. Nothing you can say can ever justify your being this stupid. I was hoping that YOU at least would have enough sense not to get involved. I guess I was wrong." She stares at him angrily for a few moments, then turns around and leaves the room. She pauses in the doorway. "Hurry up. You'll be late for school."

Later that night, he hears his parents arguing about him.

"Damn it, Mike. I wanted at least one of my kids to get away from this world. But no, because he idolises his daddy and older brother, he has to go and join the Tanglewood Boys and waste his life!"

"Christ, Angie, don't bitch to me about it. You're the one who wanted to keep him, not me! Shoulda listened to me, honey. Told you having that baby'd be a mistake."

Shocked, Danny can't move, he can hardly breathe. His father didn't, hadn't wanted him? His mother always told him he'd been a surprise, born 10 years after his sister. Something inside him crumbled, shattered hearing his father say that.

"I should have listened to my mother and stayed the hell away from you! How can you say that about your own child, I don't know! I think you'd be so pleased he wants to be like you!"

"What the hell do I care? Mikey's already in the family business and at least he's got some sense in him, not like Danny, always on about sports and shit. Maybe bein' in with the Boys will get some sense knocked into his thick fucking head," his father says angrily. "Hell, I should've listened to your mother and stayed the hell away from you!"

"The only thing being in with the Boys will get Danny is killed! Now get out! Go on and stay with Carla tonight, I don't want you in my house!" Angie yells.

"Glad to, sweetheart. I don't want to be here with you anyways!" Mike screams back. A few seconds later, Danny hears the door slam.

He slinks back to his room, devastated by what he's heard. Danny feels the tears starting and doesn't want to cry, after all, he's a Tanglewood Boy now and they don't cry. But he can't stop it and he cries himself to sleep. The next day, he wonders who Carla is. Only years later will he find out she's his father's mistress, has been since well before Danny was born.

Two years later and Danny is still a Tanglewood Boy and his mother still hates it and his father still doesn't care. His brother, Mikey, tries to talk him out of staying with them but Danny ignores him. Lately, though, Danny's been wondering if this is the best thing for him.

Then, one day, his mother comes home and sits him down at the kitchen table. She sits catty-corner to him and takes his hand. Danny senses something must be wrong and he wonders what it is. Has something happened to his Dad or one of his siblings? "Danny," she says his name softly. "I have something to tell you. I have cancer."

He stares at her, can feel tears starting, but he holds them back. After all, he's sixteen and he doesn't cry anymore. "What? You're gonna be okay, ain't ya, Ma?" he asks, hating the desperate tone in his voice.

Her blue eyes are sad as she shakes her head. "No…no, I'm not gonna be okay. They didn't find it in time. I'm still gonna get treatments but they figure it might give me a few extra months, maybe a year."

Danny is still staring at her. She doesn't look sick, maybe a little pale and a little tired…he finds he can't speak and that she's getting blurry. It isn't until Angie wraps her arms around him, that Danny realises he's crying. Then, as she comforts him, her hand stroking his blond hair, he starts with big, braying sobs. He wraps his arms around his mother, not wanting to let her go, now or ever.

The storm is over in a few minutes, Danny and his mother both sniffling. She pulls her chair over next to him and sits down. Angie reaches up, cupping the side of his face, turning it so he's looking at her. "Danny, I want you to promise me something. You know I've never liked that you joined the Tanglewood Boys. I want…I need you to promise me that you'll quit them, that you'll get away from _here_ and make something of yourself. Please, go to school, be baseball player, anything but stay here, please," she begs him.

Danny feels her words cut through him like a knife. God, how can he not give her that promise? He looks her right in the eyes. "I promise, Mom. I'll get the hell out of here. I promise."

Jolted out of his memories with the stopping of the train, Danny shakes his head. It wasn't easy, keeping that promise. He's one of the few who's made it out of the Tanglewood Boys with an outdate on his shoulder and still breathing. Sure, he's lost his chance to be a ball player, but he has a good life. He's escaped from his parents' world and he's not about to let Sonny Sassone ruin it. If it comes to it, he'll tell Mac Taylor about his years with the Boys but he really hopes he doesn't have to.

Danny wonders, briefly, if he should volunteer the information, if he should go and talk to Mac. He decides not to, at least not right now. If Mac really wants to know, he'll ask. Until then, nobody needs to know. Right?


End file.
